


At Your Service

by keekers_peekers



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Even if it looks dubious, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Full Consent, It has a nice ending though, Keith (Voltron) is DTF, Keith works in a hotel, Lance (Voltron) Being a Little Shit, Lance (Voltron) Is A Pervert, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Original Character(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Lance (Voltron), but they're not actually in it, straight up porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keekers_peekers/pseuds/keekers_peekers
Summary: Keith is a floor attendant at The Altea Grand Hotel. It's not a job he likes, but it helps pay the bills.Lance works in the aviation industry, and after a long business meeting decides to spend the night at The Altea Grand.Hijinks ensue.OR: Lance is a pervert, and Keith finds that he doesn't actually mind.





	At Your Service

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I feel far too old to be doing this, but have at it anyway. I came very late to the Voltron fandom, and I've written a bunch for it buuuuut never published any of it online. So hope this is alright!
> 
> This is pure filth, everyone. Barely a wisp of plot. Enjoy!

"Why do you do this job if you hate it?"

Keith groaned at the question he got from Pidge every time he complained about work. She knew the answer, so why did she feel the need to ask the same thing over and over?

"Because I have bills to pay, Pidge," Keith replied, not even trying to hide his exasperation as he shifted his phone to balance between his ear and his shoulder as he rifled through his work locker for his tie. No, working in a hotel wasn't even in the sphere of Keith's potential career options when he left college with thousands of dollars of debt, but the previous company he'd worked for had gone bust, so he needed something to keep up those debt payments while he kept looking for a job in his career field.

"You could just freelance, you know," she remarked, and Keith could hear the soft tapping of her keyboard keys in the background, signifying that she had Keith on speakerphone. She'd initially called because the bulb in her lamp had blown, and with Keith being her neighbour, she wanted to get one from him. And some coffee. And whatever else she could find in the fridge. It was for reasons like this, her constant pillaging of his pantry, that he'd taken her spare key away, hence the phone call.

"Too many people expect me to do work for free for exposure," Keith groaned, getting hold of his tie and closing his locker, taking his phone back in his hand. "Because exposure is going to help me make my student loan repayments." Keith was an artist. His previous job had been in advertising, but he also had experience as a technical designer, and had people asking him to design this, that, and the other for him,  _for the exposure_ , on a semi-regular basis. He'd thrown his resumé in just about everywhere, from architectural firms to schools (those who can't do, teach, right?), but hadn't had so much as a nibble. He'd worked in a hotel when he was in college to help pay his rent, so it made sense to fall back on those old skills to get him through until something better came along. He could only hope something better came along.

"Life of a starving artist, Keith," Pidge chuckled, her standard level of sarcasm seeped into every word. "You coming to the barbecue at Shiro and Adam's this weekend?"

"If I don't have to work, yeah," Keith now had the phone balanced on his shoulder again, fingers working quickly to affix his tie. "If I go, I'll probably be late. I really need the money. Shiro will understand." Keith and Shiro had known one another for close to fifteen years. It had been Shiro's family that had taken Keith out of the foster system when he was thirteen and given him a home and a family. In Shiro, Keith found an older brother and one of the most meaningful friendships of his life. The man, with his boundless patience and kindness, had taken an angry, hurt, stubborn teenager on the brink of juvenile hall, and had helped to shape him into a semi-functional member of society. This weekend would be Shiro and Adam's wedding anniversary, and they had a barbecue to celebrate every year, but Keith knew Shiro would understand if he didn't attend. Adam would, too.

"Man, debt sounds like it sucks," Pidge sighed. Somehow, and no one knew how, Pidge had managed to graduate from MIT with zero student debt of any kind. She'd gotten a full-ride scholarship, but didn't have so much as a dime owed to anyone for housing, utilities, or anything. Keith had asked Pidge how she pulled that off, but she just gave him a smile and said 'I have my ways'. "Okay, well, leave a key behind next time, dumbass. People are starving over here!"

"Go and get your own groceries!" Keith hit back, though without even a slither of venom to his words.

"Enjoy your night shift, asshole!" Pidge returned, half-laughing as she spoke, and with this, she hung up. Keith shook his head with a fond smile, stuffing his phone quickly into his locker before heading out to the front.

The Altea Grand Hotel was possibly the nicest hotel in town. Everything of the place felt opulent and almost regal, and staying there didn't come cheap. The hotel was now owned by Allura, after her father, Alfor, chose to retire, but her godfather Coran was the manager who oversaw most of the day-to-day running of the place, and he was also Allura's most trusted advisor. He was also bat crap crazy, but somehow his brand of quirkiness had actually grown on Keith. He'd been the one to interview Keith for this job, and it remained one of the most unorthodox interviews Keith had ever done in his life. Still, it was a nice place to work, and his friend Hunk worked in the kitchens, so he'd sneak in there on his breaks to grab something to eat, which the friendly Samoan was always happy to provide.

Keith had been offered the night shift the day before, owing to someone calling out due to a family emergency, and with the extra money that the shift provided, Keith knew better than to refuse, especially as he'd just gotten the bill from the service garage for fixing his car after someone rear-ended him at a stop sign two weeks ago. He knew the medical bill for that would also be imminent, depending on how much his insurance would cover, so whatever extra cash he could get, the better.

"Keith," Mr Pine was the night manager at the Altea Grand, who ran things when Coran wasn't around. He was a tall man with short blonde hair, green eyes, and a British accent, though he came across as very severe. Keith hadn't had many dealings with him prior to his requesting him to take this shift, so he wasn't sure what to expect working with him. "I'm putting you on floor seven. It's generally much quieter on the night shift than the day shift, but we do have the attendees from that Automation in Aviation conference here tonight, and they seem to be an animated group, so you may have to cater to them quite a bit." He handed Keith a piece of paper, on which were written the occupied rooms on that floor and the names of the registered guests to each one. "If you encounter any difficulties, dial down to the front."

"Sure, Mr Pine," Keith nodded. It had taken a lot of practice, mostly done during his college years, to remove the natural indifference and annoyance from his tone when he spoke, but he found himself struggling, even now, to maintain that in the presence of this man. His voice was so formal, so stern, and nothing like the softer voice of Allura, who also hailed from the UK, or the chipper New Zealand twang of Coran. He forced himself to smile before turning and departing, heading to the elevator to take up his post in the attendant's office on the seventh floor.

Such was the service at the Altea Grand that each floor had a porter. They were called 'floor attendants' here, but Keith had been a porter before, so he knew the score. Each floor had over twenty rooms, and the hotel itself had eleven floors, with the tenth floor being the two largest suites in the place, and the eleventh being where Allura would ordinarily reside. She was in Cancun for a conference until Friday, and had stated she would be back for the anniversary party on Saturday. She and Shiro were long-time friends, and Keith was certain that had helped his case when he applied for the job at the hotel, but he wasn't about to complain.

He made it to the attendant's office on the seventh floor, and flopped into the desk chair to await any calls for assistance, though he strongly doubted any would come in. It was past 9:30 at night, and the odds were that most of the conference-goers were still down in the residents' bar, drinking the night away. He doubted he'd get any calls until past 11, when people would start pouring themselves into bed, or needing something to clean up the vomit from throwing up their tenth Tequila Sunrise. His experience of the industry told him that conference attendees tended to party hard, and drink heavily, and he'd cleaned up his fair share of bodily fluids after these kinds of gatherings.

At about 10:05, a call came in from room 707. A quick glance at the paperwork Mr Pine had given him told him that the guest's name was Lance McClain. As a floor attendant, you had to greet every guest by their name when on the phone, so the list definitely helped.

"Good evening, Mr McClain," Keith started, keeping his tone neutral. "How may I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, is the kitchen open?" the man, Lance, asked.

"The kitchen is open for room service until midnight, but the Arus Restaurant is open until 11, if you'd like a sit-down meal," Keith replied with practised ease.

"Can I get room service, then?" Lance asked.

"Certainly, sir," Keith said, pulling up the room service order tab on his computer. "What can I get for you?"

"Uh... you've got cheeseburgers, right?"

"Yes, sir. Do you want anything else on that?"

"Let me see... tomatoes, lettuce, lots of cheese, obviously, red onions, barbecue sauce, jalapeños... Hey, can it be a double cheeseburger?" This guy really had the munchies. Keith couldn't help wondering if he'd smoked something to bring about this spike in appetite so late at night.

"Of course, sir," Keith quickly inputted the details into the computer. "Anything else for you tonight?"

"Garlic knots!" Lance declared. "I hear you guys do great garlic knots! I'll have some of those. And curly fries. You do curly fries, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and put onion rings in the burger! And on the side! And maybe, like, a pot of ranch dip." Did this guy not care for his colon? "And can I get ice cream, too? Mint choc chip, if you have it! And strawberries! And a can of whipped cream!" This guy was nuts, clearly. Either that or he was bordering on obese.

"Of course, sir," Keith really had a reign in his attitude now. He could feel his natural sarcasm clawing frantically to escape, but he kept it caged, unless he wanted to lose his job, of course. "Did you want anything to drink?"

"Orange soda," Lance replied. Of course it was orange soda. Heaven forbid it be water.

"Very well, sir," Keith finished keying in the order, clicking enter to send it down to the kitchen's computer system. It was a helpful, and sophisticated, system that made his life a lot easier. "I'll bring that to you as soon as it's ready."

"Thanks!" he could hear Lance's grin as he hung up the phone, and Keith simply stared at the receiver in his hands and shook his head, returning it to the cradle. With what he ordered, this guy had to be about three hundred pounds, and while he didn't want to contribute to anyone's death by heart disease, he was just here to serve, so he'd do what he was asked.

* * *

Half an hour later, the order came upstairs via the dumbwaiter in the office, and Keith wheeled out the service trolley for the delivery, placing the numerous cloche-covered platters across the two levels of the trolley before wheeling it down to room 707. He knocked on the door and awaited the arrival of the large man that was Mr Lance McClain.

The man who answered was certainly not as big as expected, but he was  _something_. He had to be an inch or two taller than Keith, with short brown hair, deep blue eyes, and tanned skin. He was broad-shouldered and built like a lean athlete, and Keith couldn't stop the spike of arousal that shot through him when their eyes met. This guy was definitely Keith's type.

"Ah, it's the phone man!" Lance grinned, shifting his gaze to the name tag on Keith's shirt. "Keith! Come on in, Keith! Thanks for helping me out!" Keith pushed the trolley into the room, his heart thundering a little, his pulse spiking rapidly when he felt  _something_ brush against his ass, barely refraining from looking behind him to see whether the room's occupant had just basically stroked his ass as he passed him. He swallowed hard and put the trolley over by the desk, taking the platters off of it and setting them on the table. The room was a bit disorganised and cluttered, a small open suitcase on the bed, and an untold number of what seemed to be beauty products sitting in a wash bag on the bed's edge. This guy clearly took care of his appearance a lot more than his health.

"Will you be needing anything else, Mr McClain?" Keith turned to face him after decanting all of his food to find that Lance seemed to be appraising him like  _he_ was the meal. It made a flush rise unbidden onto his pale cheeks, and excitement rattle down in a very inconvenient way to his groin.

"I might," Lance replied smoothly, his tone laced with seduction. "Can I call you later if I need anything?"

"Of course," Keith nodded, desperately trying to will the blush away as he gripped the trolley so tightly his knuckles went white, pushing past Lance to the door, unable to help noticing something moving in the light-coloured denim of Lance's jeans.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shi-_

"Thanks, Keith!" Lance called after him as he left, and Keith could practically  _hear_ the grin the other man was no doubt wearing.

He'd never hurried back to the office so quickly in his life, his legs a little shaky as he threw himself into his chair, willing himself to calm down. It wasn't like him to immediately get a hard-on around a guest, he always kept things professional at work regardless, but it wasn't every day that a veritable work of art was staying at the hotel. It was just his luck that he would end up working the same floor as a man who ticked all of his boxes as far as his gay fantasies went, and on the first night shift he'd been given since he started working here seven months ago. If this got out of hand, he knew he could get fired, so he had to push aside those pesky gay thoughts and focus on his job. He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the desk, and trying to will himself to think of something other than peeling those pale jeans off of tanned thighs and giving in to his oral fixation.

_No! No, no, think of Shiro and Adam doing it._

That always successfully killed off any erection Keith had ever had. No one ever wanted to think of their family as sexual beings, and he'd walked in on Shiro and Adam in several compromising positions over the years, and nothing had successfully bleached those memories from his mind.

* * *

 

At around 10:55, another call from room 707 came in. So far this evening, Keith had dealt with his fantasy man just the once, and had also attended a vomit explosion in room 715, and a sobbing drunk woman on the bathroom floor of room 703, who was weeping about how much she loved and missed her husband, who was staying in the room with her, and standing not three feet away from her at the time. So this second call from the future object of his wet dreams wasn't exactly coming at a good time.

"What can I do for you, Mr McClain?" Keith asked, trying not to sound too irritated, though felt some annoyance was perhaps required to mitigate the growing twitching in his pants.

"I can't get the TV to work," Lance told him, sounding a little annoyed himself. "Can you come and take a look at it?"

"Of course. I'll be there shortly," Keith agreed, hanging up the phone, clipping the mobile to his belt in case any other calls came in while he was gone, and heading back to 707. The man had sounded so normal on the phone, like he just wanted to put on some TV before going to bed, so Keith didn't let the thought of this being a trap even enter his head until he was in the room, bent over the unit on which the TV was situated, checking all of the cables to make sure they were working.

"So, you floor attendants are here to serve the guests, right?" Lance asked, perfectly innocently, but a red flag was quietly raised in the back of Keith's mind.

"That's the premise, sir," Keith replied as he removed the TV's HDMI cable to check it, still bent over the unit, his back still to Lance. "We're here to help you if you need us."

"Well," Lance's voice adopted that smooth, sensual quality again, and a jolt sparked in Keith's brain. "I need you to take a look at something else, if you don't mind." Another red flag, this one a lot bigger than the last one.

"What's that?" Keith replaced the cable and brought himself back upright, turning to face Lance, entirely unprepared for the sight that greeted him. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he looked over to see Lance, naked from the waist-down, seated calmly at the foot of the bed, with his erect cock in one hand.

_Well shit_.

The man was sheer perfection. His shirt was open, revealing well-defined abs, and clearly defined lines where his abdominals and obliques met; those v muscles that made Keith's brain go a little foggy whenever he saw them on a man. And his cock was perfect, too: long and thick, but not so thick as to cause too much pain, with pre-cum starting to bead at the head. All sense of professional sanity was slowly leaking out of Keith's ears as he continued to admire the body before him. If God existed, he was an absolute bastard for putting this dilemma in front of him.

"I think there's a problem with my dick," Lance replied with a sly grin. "Will you have a look at it for me?"

"I-I don't think t-that's something I should be doing, Mr McClain..." Keith forced out, his voice unsteady, swallowing hard. His natural instincts screamed at him to get on his knees and do what he always did when he was presented with a man's dick, but he knew he had to fight it. If Mr Pine found out he'd blown a guest, he'd be kicked out faster than he could count.

"You're supposed to be at my service, right?" Lance pointed out, that natural seduction lilting his voice, his smirk still tugging on his lips. "So, I want you to check to see if my dick is alright, because something feels off."

Keith thought his heart would explode out of his chest. Temptation was right there, right in front of his face, hard and throbbing, and he was trying so hard,  _so hard_ , to not give in to it.

"W-what feels off...?" he surrendered, his voice raspy and broken, slowly shuffling over to where Lance was sitting.

"You won't see from up there," Lance grinned. "You'll have to get down on your knees." Keith's heart was seconds away from bursting, but he quietly complied with his guest's request, getting down onto his knees between Lance's legs, nearly at eye-level with the man's erection, his mouth watering at the prospect of what was to come.

"It looks fine to me," Keith replied, his voice still unsteady but sounding more sure of himself, his ears radiating enough heat to warm the room.

"Check properly for me," Lance smiled, his other hand resting on one of Keith's cheeks before sliding down to his chin, encouraging him closer. When that bead of pre-cum dispersed on his lips, Keith thought he was going insane. He was grasping at the last shreds of his professional sanity by his fingernails, but it was futile. He was ready and prepared to give everything to this man, job be damned. "Open up," Lance used his hand to help pry Keith's jaw open, though he needn't have done so, as Keith complied easily on his own. Lifting violet-hued eyes to meet deep blue ones, before he slid his tongue out of his mouth, running it up over the slit on the head of his cock.

There would be no going back now.

Keith groaned as Lance's cock was guided into his mouth by the man himself, sucking it in eagerly, silently grateful for his lack of gag reflex as his nose reached the line of Lance's pubic hair, the other man groaning loudly. Keith could feel the head of Lance's cock grazing the back of his throat, but he had a lot of experience giving blow jobs, so he knew how to regulate his breathing when he had something in his mouth. He pumped his lips up and down the shaft shallowly, relishing in the thick heat and the slight salty tang in his mouth, before slowly drawing them up the shaft of his partner's cock, tongue laving the underside as he went, sliding the entirety of it out of his mouth, licking over the head as he pulled away.

"Fuck..." Lance exhaled, his eyes having never left Keith, the hand that had been on his chin now moving to fist into the back of Keith's thick black hair. "I think it needs more checking..."

Lance proceeded to start fucking into Keith's mouth, none too gently, either, which made Keith's eyes water, but this was just how he liked it. No pussy-footing around, no slow, gentle caresses or intimate looks: just right down to what they were here to do. Oral sex wasn't something Keith had ever found difficult; it was just a case of applying a little pressure with your lips, sucking where applicable, and using your tongue to massage it when possible. With Lance dictating the pace, seemingly content to fantasise that he was actually fucking Keith, rather than just getting a blow job, Keith only had to focus on his lips, tongue, and breathing. He slid his hands up Lance's bare thighs, mentally marvelling at how soft the man's skin was, leaving one hand on his hip, holding tightly to it, and the other to dip between Lance's legs to his balls, stroking them slowly as his mouth moved vigorously up and down the shaft.

"Oh shit!" Lance choked, having clearly not expected the fondling, and Keith lifted his gaze to look up at the man. He looked positively  _wrecked_ , eyes glassy and hazy, hips bucking wildly into the wet heat of Keith's mouth, entirely at his mercy. Internally, Keith was preening at the thought of having reduced this beautiful man to this quivering mess, and he started to moan as he felt the head of Lance's cock hit the back of his throat, which sent Lance into a frenzy of moans and screams of pleasure. Keith's jaw was hurting, the muscles starting to spasm, and his throat felt sore from the hard rhythm Lance had set, but he was euphoric, and couldn't stop now.

Once, twice, three times he moaned around Lance's cock before the man cried out and came in his mouth, most of it going straight down his throat, some of it lingering on his tongue and Lance withdrew, a long, sticky string hanging between his tongue and the head. A few hard spurts then shot out over Keith's face, narrowly avoiding getting in his eyes, hitting his lips, cheeks, and nose.

"Oh fuck..." Lance panted hard, his arms trembling as he looked down at Keith and the mess he'd left all over his face. "If I'd known you'd look that good covered in my cum, I'd have put it all over your face...! Did you swallow it?" Dutifully, Keith opened his mouth to show that, yes, he'd swallowed it all. He always did when he gave blow jobs. He liked the taste of it, and was especially fond of Lance's. Salty, but in the most delicious way. "Shit... God, you're good...!"

It was then that reality hit Keith like a freight train. He'd just blown a guest, while on duty, and anyone could have called looking for him. If Mr Pine had come up to his office and found him missing, he'd have a hundred questions for him as to where he'd been, and what he'd been doing.  _Who_ he'd been doing, more likely.

"Shit..." Keith quickly scrambled to his feet, trying to hide how painfully hard he was as he scrambled into the bathroom to wash his face. If he showed up back on duty with cum on his face, that would be a firing on the spot, he was sure of it. 

"What's the rush?" Lance was in the doorway, still mostly naked, smiling in a blissed-out sort of way. "I can think of other things you can help me with, you know...!"

"I have to get back to work..." Keith stated, his voice hoarse and unsteady, still scrubbing his face. "I shouldn't have done that! I could get fired for doing that!"

"But you did such a good job!" Lance insisted, moving into the room, now standing behind Keith. Another red flag. "And I think you deserve a good tip for providing such a good service...!"

Deft fingers were unfastening Keith's belt, then the button of his pants, and then the zipper, and before Keith could object, or push back, his pants and underwear were both down at his ankles, those fingers now wrapped around his still-hard and weeping cock.

"W-wait!" Keith gasped. "I have to get back to work...! We can't do this!"

"It won't take long; trust me!" Lance grinned, holding up the can of whipped cream Keith had brought him earlier. As Keith frantically started to wonder how he'd smuggled that in without him noticing, his hips were pulled back slightly, his legs pulled apart, and a sudden shock of cold hit his skin as the cream was discharged over one ass cheek. It was just a small amount, but Lance dutifully licked it away, and Keith  _keened_ at the sensation, immediately biting down on his lip when he realised how loudly he'd moaned.

"Oh,  _someone_ is sensitive back here, hm?" Lance smirked, and Keith's heart stuttered. He repeated the action on the other cheek, more cold cream, and Keith's reaction was much the same. His arms trembling, Keith knew what was coming next, and tried desperately to steel himself. From past experience, he knew how this went, and what going where Lance was going would do to him, and he couldn't give this guy that much power over him. "Do you want me to stop?" Keith startled at this sudden question, looking over his shoulder at Lance, who had the cream in his hand and a serious look on his face. "If you want me to stop, I will."

"N-no..." Keith was like a coiled spring, tense and on the edge, and even though his professional sensibilities were telling him to walk away and get back to work, he needed release from this wound-up hell. "Don't stop... Please don't stop...!"

He was now doubled-over the bathroom sink and exposed, startling as the cold cream started from his perineum and worked upwards, finishing just above his twitching and overly-sensitive entrance. Keith had always been sensitive back there, to the delight of his sexual partners because it made him a noisy and enthusiastic bedmate, and Lance would know this in a matter of seconds for himself, and while a small, stubborn part of Keith didn't want to give him that power, the larger, much stronger part of him was just  _desperate_ to be touched.

The feel of Lance's tongue on his skin sent shockwaves through his body as it was slowly dragged up from his perineum, and Keith gasped at the sensation, but practically screamed when Lance's tongue rimmed around his hole, and Keith didn't need to look round to know that Lance was smirking.

"This is gonna be fun..." Lance muttered, and Keith's wrecked head somehow picked up on this before more cream came into play, focused over his entrance now, and Lance's tongue probed inside him. This time, Keith  _did_ scream, fingers gripping the sink painfully tightly, toes curling, thighs trying to move together to regulate the sensations, but Lance's hands held them apart. He was hell-bent on torturing him, Keith's frantic mind supplied, but it felt so painfully good that he just didn't care.

Keith remained at Lance's mercy as the other continued to allow his tongue to intermittently rim and lick inside him, changing the pattern of it with such frequency that Keith never knew what to expect, or how to control the volume of his voice as it echoed off of the bathroom tiles. Sometimes his movements would be slow and teasing, other times they'd be forceful and hungry, and the constant change was driving Keith to the edge of orgasm faster than he'd ever done before. But every time he vocalised it, screamed Lance's name and how close he was to finishing, Lance would slow down, leaving Keith tightly-wound, on the brink with no release, and it was torture.

"Lance!" Keith screamed, the feel of his partner's tongue moving inside him, rimming around his hole before probing in again, driving him to the edge of his sanity. He expected Lance to withdraw again, to prolong his agony, but he didn't. He kept Keith's legs apart, and continued to pleasure his hole, the noises and sensations pushing him straight over, his vision blurring out, his body going numb as he climaxed, shooting out over the bathroom floor, his legs giving way entirely as he collapsed to his knees, Lance barely able to catch him to soften the fall for him.

"You know," Lance remarked breathlessly as Keith started coming back to reality, having checked out for at least three minutes in a post-orgasmic haze. "I don't normally like eating ass, but for you, I'd definitely make an exception..." Keith was still mostly out of it as he was pulled up onto his feet, now divested of his clothing and shoes entirely, and brought into the bedroom and laid on the bed. "And if all room service is like this in this hotel, I'm gonna have to move in...!"

"Oh my god..." Keith panted heavily, his brain starting to click back into functionality once again. This man was going to be the death of him. Literally, if this got him fired and then evicted.

"You're a little slutty, aren't you?" Lance grinned, and Keith looked over at him with a frown on his features. Gay masturbatory fantasy made real or not, this guy was pushing the limits of his patience and common sense. He'd sucked him off, and now allowed himself to be rimmed, in fact he'd practically begged for it. He was getting far too caught up in the fantasy; it was time to come back to reality.

"Thank you, Lance..." Keith started, slowly pushing himself up to a seated position. "But I have to get back to work..." A quick glance at his watch told him that it was well past 11:30 now, so he'd been away from his post for far too long. "Shit...!" He stumbled up onto his feet, in an effort to find his clothes, but was soon halted by strong, tanned arms.

"You're not done yet, though, are you?" Lance pointed out, and as Keith pulled away, whipping round to object, to say he'd done more than enough, he saw that Lance was hard again. Completely erect. And more than that: he now had a condom on, a bottle of lube in one hand, the other hand rubbing the gel over his condom-covered cock. "May as well finish this, right?"

_Holy shit._

He didn't know if this was his night getting better or worse. He had to get back to work, he'd get fired if Mr Pine couldn't find him, but right in front of him was a beautiful man, with perhaps the perfect cock, wanting to have sex with him. He was desperate, gagging, and yet wanted to keep his job. He found himself drawing similarities to the story of Adam and Eve that he'd learned about in the children's home. He was Eve, and Lance was the snake, with his dick being the apple he wasn't supposed to touch. It was a terrible analogy, a worse one to have thought of at such a moment, but it fit for him.

_I have to walk away. I can't do this. I can't risk this job; I need this job. I have to walk away._

Their lips crashed together, and it was Keith that had closed the distance. Keith that had initiated. Their tongues tangled together, teeth clashing every so often in the eager desperation of the moment, one of Lance's lubricant-coated hands finding its way behind Keith, which he realised when he felt a cold, wet digit pushing into his still-saliva-and-cream-slicked hole. Keith's back arched, the kiss broken as he moaned at the feel of Lance's finger, but it just wasn't enough. It wasn't big enough to satisfy him.

"You're wet back here, but I gotta stretch you open, or it'll really hurt," Lance commented breathlessly as he slid a second finger inside, pistoning them in and out, scissoring him open as they hit deep inside, and Keith moaned loudly, gripping Lance's shoulders desperately as a third finger came in. A brief, giddy thought came to Keith in a moment of madness, as he silently hoped Lance would put his whole fist inside him, but that thought was quickly dismissed. He wanted to be fucked, and he'd prefer that cock right now. Maybe another time.

When Lance's fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside him, Keith screamed, throwing his head back as his muscles tightened involuntarily around the invading fingers, his hips starting to move of their own accord, treating Lance to the sight of Keith fucking himself on Lance's fingers, crying out as they found that sweet spot time and again.

"I think you're ready," Lance removed his finger, and Keith's hole clenched around nothing, the man whimpering at the empty feeling for a few moments before he was pulled down on top of Lance, sitting in his lap, the other man's cock nestled between his ass cheeks. "Your move, Keith. You can--"

Keith didn't give Lance time to finish his sentence. He took hold of Lance's condom-covered cock, lifted his hips, pressed the head against his slicked and ready entrance before driving it forcefully into himself, bottoming out in seconds. Lance let out a loud gasp, while Keith all but screamed. This guy was big, and while he'd known it with that cock in his mouth, feeling it inside him like this was something else altogether. For a moment, Keith saw stars and couldn't breathe, gasping as he felt that thick heat radiating inside his body, and through the pain it had brought, the sheer pleasure of it was much stronger.

"Shit, Keith...!" Lance gasped, hands now on Keith's hips. "You just fucking speared yourself on me...!"

Keith was starting to feel a little bit dizzy, his jaw going slack as his body adjusted to the invader he'd just forced so unceremoniously inside, but he couldn't stop now. He couldn't. He was so aroused, so  _desperate_ , that he wasn't prepared to waste a second, and so he started to move, using the power in his legs to lift himself up slowly, until the head barely remained inside, before slamming back down with a moan. Hard, frantic fucking was the pace at which Keith liked it best, and since he was setting the rhythm this time, it would be played by his rules. He built the momentum up slowly at first, relishing in the loud groans of pleasure from his bedmate, before his patience snapped like a brittle twig and he started to pound himself onto Lance's cock, moaning loudly with each thrust back down, entirely unhinged. Lance kept his grip on Keith's hips, encouraging his movements, moaning loudly with him before sitting up to capture his lips in a kiss. Keith kept moving as he kissed Lance, unwilling to stop getting what he wanted, his skin now covered in a thin layer of sweat as the two continued their ferocious sexual activity.

Lance soon flipped their positions, forcing Keith onto his back, his hips tilted upwards, but their bodies still connected, and now it was Lance setting the bruising pace, fucking hard and deep into Keith, finding his prostate much more easily from this position, and Keith keened with every push against it, his body wracked with ecstasy, desperately chasing his orgasm.

"Fuck...!" Lance grunted, dark-toned skin glistening with sweat in the dim artificial light of the room, and he withdrew from Keith far too suddenly, leaving the latter whimpering at the loss.

"Lance-" Keith began to whine out in protest, but was pulled up by his wrists and dragged off of the bed, a frisson of panic shooting up his spine before he was slammed up against the glass of the ceiling-to-floor window of the bedroom, looking out of it to see the city lit up in thousands of small lights, darkness having enveloped it.

"You're dirty and desperate, so this is how you get it..." Lance grunted, pulling Keith's hips back to bend him over, and thrusting back inside him hard and without warning. Keith cried out at the sudden invasion, and it didn't stop as Lance resumed fucking into him.

Keith's brain went to jelly. He'd never had it this good before. It had never felt so good before. He'd been able to cum untouched from having his asshole licked, which didn't happen often in spite of his sensitivity, and he knew that if Lance even so much as touched his cock now, he'd explode like a firework. He felt Lance's chest against his back, driving his cock in harder and deeper against his sweet spot, his hands digging into his hips as Keith's fingers scrambled for purchase against the smooth glass in front of him.

"Lance...!" Keith whimpered as he felt those tanned fingers wrap around his cock, giving him a single stroke, and it was all it took to make him explode, crying out Lance's name over and over as he came, muscles going tight around the cock that was still pounding into him through his orgasm. Lance let out a low groan before burying himself deep inside and releasing, filling the condom, and Keith's legs gave out from under him again, Lance going down with him, and the pair collapsed in a sweaty, sticky mess on the floor.

As Keith started to come to, he noticed spots of his cum all over the window, with some on the floor, and he glanced over his shoulder to see just how much Lance had cum into that condom, feeling a twist of glee in his gut at just how full the latex was. His body was spent, everything below the waist aching in the most wonderful way, and god, if this got him fired, Keith wasn't even sure if he had it in him to care anymore.

"Oh  _fuck_..." Lance gasped, panting for breath. "That... That right there was a damn good fuck..." Keith slowly sat himself up, wincing as he found himself paying the price for his love of hard sex: the aftermath was always painful. "You're incredible..."

"God I feel so fucking gross..." Keith whined, forcing himself onto his unsteady feet, stumbling over and needing to grab onto the dresser to balance himself. "I need to use your shower..."

"Knock yourself out, gorgeous," Lance waved him off nonchalantly, content to remain, blissed out, on the bedroom floor as Keith carefully teetered over, like a newborn deer, to use Lance's shower. 

Under the spray of the hot water, Keith found his senses returning, and was surprised to find that he didn't regret any of it. It had been risky, but with risk sometimes came reward, and this had been incredibly rewarding. He washed himself off thoroughly, making sure to clean himself back there in spite of how much it hurt to do so, and he gingerly got out of the shower, drying himself off and getting himself dressed. He quickly dried his hair, knowing wet hair would make him suspicious to any staff that saw him, and made his way over to where he had left Lance, where the man remained, passed out on the floor.

"Thanks for the fun night, Mr McClain," Keith said softly, smiling at the sleeping man, grabbing the blanket from the bed and throwing it over him, even going so far as to tuck a pillow under his head. He'd done a good job; he deserved some little comfort while he slept. Keith was relieved to find no calls had been made to him in the hour or so he'd spent with Lance, and he quietly crept out of the room, returning to work a little sore but thoroughly satisfied.

* * *

The rest of his night shift passed without incident, and as Keith stepped out onto the sunny city street as his shift came to its end, he felt somehow both bone tired and invigorated. His sleep schedule would be fucked for the next couple of days, but he could hang out with Pidge, who seemed pretty much nocturnal anyway, until things settled down again. Though it was difficult to stay awake all night, he'd reaped both a physical and financial reward from it, but a part of him still wondered if he'd perhaps wandered into gigolo work by, essentially, getting paid to have sex with a guest.

"Hey!" Keith was startled from his half-asleep daze by the sound of a familiar voice, turning to see Lance coming down the steps towards him. He looked fresh-faced and well-rested, the night on the floor having clearly not affected his sleep, and he was dressed in a fresh suit, ready for the last day of the conference the hotel was hosting. "You slipped out on me last night without a word! Very crafty!"

"I didn't want to wake you," Keith gave him a small smile as he stopped on the step above him, taking in just how handsome his features were. "How are you feeling?"

"Sensational, if you must know," Lance grinned. "I had a fantastic night with a hot guy who likes it rough, and hey, I can dig that!" Keith laughed softly, shaking his head. This guy was adorable, really.

"Well, enjoy your conference today," Keith nodded back towards the hotel. "I'm gonna go home and get some actual sleep. You'd better get to breakfast."

"Yeah, I worked up an appetite last night!" Lance was still grinning from ear-to-ear. "Oh! Hold on! I have something of yours." Keith quirked a brow at this, and watched as Lance dove into the inner pocket of his jacket, producing a simple platinum ring, a wedding band, and offering it to him with a half-scolding look on his face. "You left this by the sink yesterday before you went to work." Keith glanced down at his hand and, indeed, his ring wasn't on his finger. Sheepishly, he reclaimed the piece from Lance, putting it back on his finger.

"I take it off when I do the dishes," Keith explained.

"A likely excuse!" Lance had a tendency to be overly dramatic, but Keith had gotten well used to that by now. He still loved him, in spite of it. "You just like sneaking off and having hot, hot sex with guests in the hotel!"

"Lance, you were the one who suggested the game, remember?" Keith reminded him, going up to kiss his nose. "Your exact words were 'hey, let's pretend like we don't know each other and have this passionate affair'. To 'spice up the marriage', you said."

"Oh yeah, just go ahead and quote me word-for-word to get out of trouble!" Lance huffed, but the smile was still tugging at his lips, and he couldn't keep it off of his face. "Did you want me to drive you home?"

"I'm gonna take the bus," Keith jutted his thumb over towards the bus stop. "I took the bus here yesterday, anyway. And besides, if you drive me home, we'll end up with a repeat of last night, then you'll miss your conference, and your boss will be pissed. So go and do some work."

"Yes sir!" Lance smiled, pulling Keith up into a kiss, wrapping him in his arms. "How about, next time, you play a little harder to get, hm?"

"Dear god, you're incorrigible," Keith groaned, trying to wriggle free but finding himself trapped in his husband's embrace.

"You know, resist me more!" Lance grinned deviously. "Like you don't want it, and then bam, you're hyped and horny and I'm all that can satisfy you!"

"You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?"

"You love it!" Keith couldn't lie: he really did. While it had been Lance's idea to start introducing role play into their marriage, he'd made sure Keith was totally willing and consenting before executing any plan. He was sweet and considerate that way.

"Go and eat, or I'll call Hunk and tell him to spit in your pancakes!" Keith warned, and Lance looked positively aghast at the thought. Keith smiled, placing another kiss on his lover's lips. "I'll see you at home, okay? I'm gonna make empanadas, that way Pidge can just take a handful and not starve, like the weird little gremlin she is."

"Cool," Lance smiled back, keeping hold of one of Keith's hands. "Hey, I love you." Every time Lance said it, Keith's heart stuttered. The first time he'd said it, Keith thought he'd die, and even now, his heart still couldn't get used to the sheer sincerity of how Lance said it.

"I love you, too," Keith returned, leaning in to kiss the inside of Lance's wrist. "Have a good day, okay?" Lance nodded, and the pair reluctantly parted ways, with Lance going back into the hotel, and Keith going to the bus stop.

As he waited for the bus, Keith couldn't help thinking about the man he'd married. They certainly hadn't started out as the best of friends, maybe not even friends, when they had first met in college, but now Keith couldn't imagine any aspect of his life without Lance.

Silly, funny, sexy, horny, sweet, irreplaceable Lance.

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, this was just porn. Nice fluffy ending, though! I could see myself making this into a series of oneshots in this universe, looking at different ways they 'spice up their lives', or maybe even some domestic fluff. We'll see, though, cos life is full of life stuff.


End file.
